


Beauty and the Spider-Beast

by VermeilH20



Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, F/F, Fluff, Genderbend, Romance, Spideytorch Week 2020, fem!spideytorch, idk I'm doing as much prompts as I can in here, some of which are very loosely interpreted, spideytorch - Freeform, the genderbent beauty and the beast au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:41:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25616059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VermeilH20/pseuds/VermeilH20
Summary: When Joanie Storm's brother-in-law manages to displease the beastly entity living in the nearby forested hills, she finds herself sent away from the only home she has ever known and straight into the arms of a terrifying monster.Who maybe isn't so terrifying, really. And actually kind of cute?(This is not abandoned. I've just gotten way too invested and am currently working on the next handful of chapters)
Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. The Villainous Spider-Beast

The man sighed as the sky opened up and began to pour buckets. In all fairness, he should have expected it. It had grown cloudy and cold in the past few hours, but he had bene so intent on getting home that he’d ignored the all the warm, well-lit inns that had dotted his route. He had been so used to living in penury, painstakingly stretching every halfpence and penny to make what little money his poor family had last.

When he had set off for the inventor’s fair weeks ago, it had been with a heavy heart. The journey was not cheap, and the insidious rumors his old partner had spread in their home town had turned the once famed scientist into a social pariah. He struggled to find investors, patrons, people to fund the brilliant designs he came up with.

But this fair had been meant to change all that. It was far enough from home that the rumors would likely not have spread there, and in a city large enough to attract all manner of wealthy intelligentsia eager to invest in bright minds with big plans.

And he had found the success he had so desperately needed, finding his work showered with accolades and awards and praise. The cart that had carried nothing more than a few charcoal sketches on scraps of draft paper was now piled with presents for his family and the promise of a better life.

Before he’d left, he’d asked everyone if they wanted him to bring back anything. Even if the inventor’s fair didn’t pan out, he wanted to bring something back. Maybe lessen the sting of disappointment for everyone. Sue and Ben, ever practical, had asked for a new hairbrush and a pair of work gloves, respectively. The man patted the pouch at his side, which held a silver engraved brush and mirror set, as well as a pair of sturdy leather gloves. Luxuries they would have hardly dared to dream of mere weeks ago. He pushed it deeper under his coat, trying to keep them from getting soaked in the downpour.

His only regret was that he hadn’t been able to find the velocipede parts young Joanie had asked for. That girl was a hellion if he ever met one. Always zipping around town on that contraption of hers, scaring the living daylights out of everyone. But still, he had reasoned, she wouldn’t be too disappointed with the gold-trimmed scarf and slippers he’d bought her. He’d thought they matched her sunny disposition.

The sun itself seemed but a distant memory, though. The rain was increasing, thick silver sheets lashing against the ground as the chill crept through his sodden clothes and into his very bones. The parcels in the cart were weighing them down, and he had failed to account for the added weight. He had been a fool, thinking he could outrun nature.

Well, he was paying for that hubris now. He brought his horse to a halt at the foot of the hills, in front of the dense foliage that covered it’s slopes. The Forested Hills were not an easy route in the best weather, and they would be difficult to navigate in the rain and approaching darkness.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about bandits, the man thought drily. No one would willingly be out in such terrible weather. But as he looked into the dark thicket ahead, a chill ran down his spine. If the old wives’ tales were to be believed, bandits weren’t the worst thing lurking in the forest.

The man smiled a little, imagining what his wife would say if she was here. “The greatest inventor our city, no the _world_ has ever seen, and you couldn’t remember an umbrella?” She’d probably chasten him, her scolding belied by the warm twinkle in her eyes. A small lump formed in the man’s chest as he realized she must be worrying about him. But he steadied his heart at the thought of how her face would light up when he finally returned, victorious.

“Giddyup.” He spurred his horse on, into the dense forest. He just had to make it through to the other side.

***

It hadn’t even been a few miles before the sky was split by cracks of lightning, their stark white penetrating even the thick leafy overgrowth to illuminate his path. The man gasped as thunder followed, startling his horse. He held on for dear life as the steed reared, letting out terrified whinnies as its normally calm eyes widened with fright.

“Easy, boy. Nothing is going to happen.” The man hoped he sounded more reassuring than he felt. There were few worse places to be in a thunderstorm than a forest full of tall trees, each of them a potential conductor for the currents lighting up the crackling sky.

A resolute expression on his face, he struggled to keep his horse moving ahead. They just had to make it out to the other side, and they would be safe. There were inns there, he remembered passing one on his earlier journey. He could let his horse rest and find a warm bed and some food.

His stomach rumbled at the thought. The man realized he hadn’t eaten since that morning, hunger kept at bay by the excitement of returning to his beloved wife and family. But now, in the dark and the wet and the cold, it was returning in full force.

Of course, the ache in his stomach could also have been from fear, but the man refused to consider that possibility.

“Come on, Baxter.” He tried to soothe the horse. “We’re almost there. Just a few more miles and we can find a nice stable with warm hay and take a rest. You’d like that, right?”

Suddenly, Baxter’s ears flattened against his head and he began to sprint, head jerking forward. As the reins were wrested from his hands, the man let out a scream, grabbing the horse’s neck for dear life as he heard the sound of wolves howling in the distance.

The man opened his eyes warily when he felt Baxter come to a halt, panting heavily. Unable to hear any wolves or other approaching threats, he sat up slowly, trying to get his bearings. 

What little breath remained in his chest was taken away by the sight he saw in front of him. Tall iron gates topped with sharp spikes and wrought in dark metal that almost seemed to writhe in the wet rain. If he squinted, he could make out a faint light some distance behind them.

He dismounted from his horse, taking Baxter’s reins in his hands as he approached the gates. There was no visible locking mechanism, and a tentative push from his cold hands sent the gate creaking open. A small hope fluttered in his chest. Light meant fire and fire meant people. People who possibly had a spare room and maybe a stable.

That hope was temporarily overtaken by fear and apprehension when the man remembered the stories his family would tell. Ben’s fey stories, all of which involved crafty woodland creatures using illusions and enchantments to lure poor unsuspecting travelers into certain death or worse, oblivious bliss. Sure, the tales had been mostly meant to frighten Sue’s somewhat mischievous younger sister into behaving, but the gruff-voiced man had made them a bit too detailed for it to be purely his own imagination. 

The man shivered, remembering how one holiday night, after Joanie had been dispatched to her room in a huff after hearing about how pretty blondes who didn’t go to bed on time would be visited by shadow creatures who’d snip off all her curls to make golden quilts (Joanie was a vain young thing, and her hair was one of her most prized attributes), the adults had gotten a little tipsy on mulled wine and Sue had asked Ben if he’d ever seen any of the creatures he spun yarns about. The big man hadn’t answered, making some remark about how nightmares were really just stories or something, before changing the topic.

He sneezed, then, and realized how soaked and weary he was. There was a good chance that if he kept going, he would die of hypothermia. Better to take his chances on the other side of the gate.

Besides, they were just stories, right?

As the man urged Baxter on, he could slowly make out the silhouette of a stone edifice. The light seemed to be coming from a low window, the amber glow a beacon of warmth. As they neared the building, a flash of lightning illuminated the grotesque gargoyles perched on the roof, their weather-worn faces still holding traces of malevolence as they leered down at him.

He shuddered, pulling his coat and cloak tighter around his shivering body. After tying Baxter to the bottom rails of the steps and putting an oilskin over the fatigued horse, he made his way up the pocked stone steps and stood in front of an imposing wooden door. The face on the knocker was disquieting, a maniacally grinning creature with a crude jester’s cap jauntily tilted to one side. The man wrinkled his nose at the monstrosity and avoided looking at it directly as he seized the ring between its jagged teeth and brought it down against the door.

Much like the gate had before, the door swung open. Despite being deeply unsettled, the man walked inside and looked around. “Hello?” He called. There was a roaring fire in the room to his right, but not a soul seated in any of the plush stuffed chairs around it.

The furniture looked well-kept and the floor was clean. Someone evidently lived here, even if they weren’t _here_. “Hello?” He called again, moving through the rooms. “I don’t mean to intrude. I have been traveling for a long time and my horse is tired. We were wondering if you’d let us spend the night. Please.” He paused and added. “If you have a bit of bread and a warm drink to spare, I would deeply appreciate it.” He paused to look at one of the portraits that hung on the wall. Well, what was visible of the portrait, anyway. A thick red curtain covered most of it, but a corner had come lose and the man could see a pair of stern and rather unpleasant eyes looking back at him, as if annoyed that such a sodden man would dare to step on the expensively tiled and carpeted floor beneath.

Looking a little embarrassed, the man gathered his cloak in his hands, trying not to drip on the Persian rugs underfoot.

A sudden skittering noise came from behind him and he wheeled around in terror. He almost screamed when he realized that a plate of sandwiches and a decanter of something dark and heavy had materialized on a table by the fireplace.

There was a small note next to it.

Heart in his throat, the man moved forward slowly, picking up the small piece of paper. On it, scrawled in a very unkempt hand were the words: _Please eat and drink. You can rest your head here for the night._ He looked up to see that a blanket had been placed on the chair opposite.

This was uncanny. He hadn’t seen a single person since he had set foot in this place. For all he knew, the manor was haunted by ghosts who were trying to lull him into complacency so they could feast on his immortal soul.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the storm raging outside. It looked like the wind had picked up, too, the force of it bending trees in two. Then he looked back at the fire, and its merry warmth. The man sighed and sat down, picking up a sandwich and the decanter of what turned out to be a very stiff brandy. He ignored the creeping feeling of being watched and raised a toast to his mysterious benefactor before downing a large gulp of the burning liquid.

There were worse ways to die.

***

When his eyes opened again, the fire had burned down and soft sunlight was beginning to stream through the window. He yawned, looking down and seeing that someone had put the blanket over him while he slept. The last thing he remembered was taking off his coat and cloak before sitting back down, trying to puzzle out who lived here. He must have been more tired than he’d thought, since he rarely fell asleep while thinking.

He looked over at the chair where the blanket had been and noticed that his outer gear had been dried somehow. When he got up and frantically patted their pockets, everything was intact and undisturbed. The plate of food had also disappeared, but there was a bag of bread and cheese next to his clothes, as well as a freshly filled waterskin.

“Thank you.” He said into the empty room, and headed for the door. Outside, he was greeted by a very well-rested Baxter, who whinnied cheerfully and tossed his head. The horse was tied to the same place the man had left him, but there were bits of hay in his mane and someone had given his coat a very thorough brushing.

The cart was also untouched, small puddles of water gathered on the covering stretched over it.

“Hey, boy.” He patted the horse’s flank before taking his reins. “Sleep well.” Despite having fallen asleep on a chair, the man felt fine. He was tempted to whistle but stopped short when he noticed something.

A dense cluster of flowering vines ran all along one side of the house. The were covered in red and pink blossoms that looked strikingly like roses. The man moved closer, surprised. Roses weren’t vinous plants, nor did they flower during this time of the year. Whatever these were, they were unlike anything he had ever seen or read about before. The scientist in him itched for a sample, a chance to make an unknown discovery. He was mostly an engineer by training, but he would be lying if he said biology didn’t hold some fascination.

He reached into his pocket for the small traveling knife he kept more for his own peace of mind than any real protection. Unsheathing the small silver blade, he reached for one of the plants.

Within an instant, he felt something cool and sticky wrap itself around his hand, As he stared at the viscous white substance, too shocked to even scream, he felt a sharp tug. Looking up, he saw that he substance had been shot out of a third-story window.

A window that a large, dark shape was now crawling out of, the white substance somehow attached to it.

The man screamed when the creature crawled along the walls and dropped down, face-to-upside-down-face with him. All he could see were large white eyes staring out of a red mask. He looked up and stumbled, trying to move away as he took in the creature’s humanlike nose and mouth. Humanlike, except for the two fangs that seemed to stick out of either side of its mouth. Another one of the white tendrils was stuck to the side of a gargoyle, and it appeared that this was what was holding the creature aloft. He shook his hand, desperately trying to free himself from its grasp.

“Don’t resist. This webbing is unbreakable.” There was a dark chuckle and the creature added. “Well, unbreakable to the likes of you, anyway.”

“Please. I have a family.” The man gasped. “Don’t eat me!”

“You should have thought of that before you tried to cut up one of my plants.” The creature tilted it’s head at the strange vines. “I offered you food and shelter, and you try to steal from me? To desecrate the memory of my love?”

“I didn’t know!” The man pleaded. “Please, spare me. I’ll give you anything!” He gestured towards his cart with his free hand. “I have gold, jewels, fine fabrics. Take anything you want. Just let me go to my family.”

“I don’t know. It get’s pretty lonely around here. Not many people come by this way.” The creature was clearly enjoying taunting him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I’m an inventor. I was taking an invention to the fair in York.” He shivered, staring into those unblinking white eyes. “These are my earnings.” He began to babble, rendered insensate by fear, when a single bristling fingertip was placed against his mouth. The man stilled, terrified by the barbed flesh pressed to his lips.

“Well, never let it be said that I would steal a working man’s hard-earned wealth from him.” The creature smirked. “Of course, certain bankers might beg to differ, but seeing as how their wealth comes more from extorting poor farmers than actual work, I stand by my claim.” It tapped its chin with it’s free hand. “Let’s make a deal, then. I get lonely around here. I’ll let you go if you give me the first living creature you see when you return home.”

“Deal!” He almost sobbed in relief. “It’s a deal.”

“Excellent. Don’t touch my plants again. Next time, I won’t be so lenient.” The man felt something cold pour over his hand and when he looked over, the webbing had dissolved. The creature pulled itself back upward and slipped into the window again, a spider returning to its nest.

The man leapt onto Baxter and tore through the gates like all the demons in hell were chasing after him.

 _Please don’t let it be Sue. Please don’t let it be Sue._ He begged whatever higher power existed.

“Hello, Reed!” A blur of blonde curls came shooting out of the manor door, excitement lighting up brilliant blue eyes. “Whatcha bring me?”

Reed Richards felt his heart sink into his boots as he took in the grinning beauty before him, There was a twinge of guilt in his heart as he realized his prayers had been answered, but at a terrible cost.

“Sue’s going to be so excited. She’s been really down…What’s wrong?” The concern in Joanie’s eyes burned through him and Reed could feel tears forming in his eyes.

“Forgive me.” He managed, before pulling the startled young woman into a hug. He was weeping by the time the other came out, worry etched on all their faces.

Susan Storm was stony-faced as her husband explained what had happened on his journey home. One arm was curled protectively around a stricken-looking Joanie, the other clutching her chair so tightly it’s knuckles were as pale and bloodless as Joanie’s face. Ben watched quietly, the pain in his eyes evident.

“You can’t go back on a deal you make with one of ‘em fairy-critters.” The man sighed, looking resigned. “Sorry, kid. I wish I knew a way out of this.”

“So you’re just going to send me into the clutches of some bog-beast?” Joanie’s voice was high-pitched.

“Looked more like a spider to me.” Reed said, shutting his mouth when Sue glared at him.

Joanie looked like she was about to burst into tears. Then she shook her head, a stubborn look appearing on her face. “You know what? Fine. If this spider-beast thinks it can scare us, then I’m not going to be scared of it.” She grinned weakly. “I’ll show it what it means to mess with a Storm.”

Reed and Ben exchanged a look. They’d seen that expression many, many times before. Whoever or whatever this spider-beast was, it had another thing coming.

***  
Perrin was rudely woken from her nap by a loud clanging coming from the front door.

“Hey, Spidey! Open up!” someone shouted.

 _Not the villagers again._ Perrin was tired of dealing with occasional mob of pitchfork-wielding maniacs who tried to burn down her front door. “As if their little torches hold a candle to this stupid curse.” She muttered, rolling over and trying to return to her slumber. It usually happened once a year, when one of the crazy theological sorts got it into their heads to try and “cleanse the forest of the evil fey”. They usually failed spectacularly, but still. It was an unnecessary annoyance, on top of all the other unnecessary annoyances Perrin had to deal with in her life.

“You wanted me, now you got me!” The racket had started up again. It was becoming very clear that the shouting was all coming from one person, and that that person was likely a woman.

“HEY, WEBHEAD! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!” It sounded like whoever was at the door had given up knocking and had now moved on to kicking it. 

“Rise and shine, Spidey.” A bemused voice called from the hand mirror on her desk. “Looks like you’ve got a visitor.” Gwen looked intrigued as Perrin rolled off the bed and pulled on a nightrobe.

“Looks like it.” Perrin grumbled, stalking down to the main foyer, mask in hand. She slammed it on her face and then yanked the door open, only to get kicked in the shin.

“Oof.” Perrin grimaced, scowling at the girl. She was a little satisfied at the way the blonde recoiled at the sight of her fangs, and a little impressed by how quickly the fear was replaced by stubborn, seething contrariness.

“Oh, so you can feel pain. Good.” The girl looked at her, more curious than afraid now. “So you’re the creature that scared Reed senseless. The man is a bit of an idiot sometimes, but you must really have done a number on him if he’d bargain away his family.”

“Who? Listen here…” Then Perrin remembered the man who had showed up in the rain. She remembered the deal she had made with him.

This was not good.

“You’re a person.” Perrin blinked behind the mask, blurting out the first thing that came into her mind. “I thought you’d be a dog or something. Or a cat. Or a cook.” Perrin would have liked a cook. She was tired of living on bread and cheese.

“Well, I’m not. The name’s Joanie. Joanie Storm.”

“Right, well, listen up Joanie…” Perrin stepped forward and felt a small tingle in the back of her neck, but she didn’t expect it when a fist came out of nowhere and crunched into the right side of her face. She cried out in pain, clutching her bruised jaw.

“Don’t come closer!” The woman’s blue eyes were radiating with fear. She looked at her fist, then back up, bottom lip trembling.

Perrin stood up and snarled, anger flowing through her veins and turning her vision red. Her life sucked enough without getting sucker-punched by some random stranger in her own home. “Well, if you can’t be civil…” She stopped the second punch with her palm and grabbed Joanie’s wrist, yanking the woman over the threshold.

“Let me go!” Joanie struggled, yelping as Perrin dragged her across the foyer to the back of the house, and down a flight of dark stairs to the old dungeons. She shoved Joanie into one of the cells and turned the key in the rusted lock.

“I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Perrin grumbled, pocketing the key and stalking back to her bed. “We can talk again when you’ve calmed down and don’t try to knock my teeth in.” She paused at the top of the stairs and unhooked one of the lanterns. She then stalked back down and placed it in front of Joanie’s cell. “There are no rats in here.”

Then she left again, shutting the door to the dungeons behind her before making her way back to her lab. Now that she was awake, she might was well try to make progress on her project.

***

Perrin Parker was not having a good day. Some random guy had tried to take a chunk out of her ex-girlfriend a few days ago, and now she was stuck with the idiot’s sister crying in the dungeon. On top of which, Gwen and Mary were on her case about scaring the poor man. Well, Gwenny was on her case about scaring the man. Mary was on her case about locking the girl in the dungeon.

Which, Perrin had to admit, was not one of her finer moments.

“He didn’t seem very poor. Did you see the piles of stuff he had?” Perrin retorted, hunched over a beaker. Gwen had referred to him as "that poor man" again and Perrin was growing tired of hearing it.

“Still, you didn’t have to scare him half to death.” Gwen rolled her eyes from inside the mirror. “Be careful, you’re messing up the titration!” She shouted as Perrin hurried to staunch the base of the column.

“Stop distracting me, then. I can’t focus on alchemy while debating the ethics of scaring ungrateful interlopers with the two of you.”

“I haven’t said anything about last night, tiger. I’m glad you stopped him from taking a knife to me.” Mary said, filing her nails as she sat in the window, roses blooming in her long red hair and vines tangled around her torso as she took in the sun. “But I do think you were a bit harsh on the girl. She’s scared. You of all people should understand how sometimes mouthing off helps you feel more in control of the situation. You need to be nicer to her.”

“What I need is for the two of you to stop judging me so I can figure out how to break this curse.” Perrin groaned. “Stupid Goblin with his stupid curse. What kind of dysfunctional family even needs a dungeon in the first place?”

“You know how far back the Osbornes went. I wouldn’t be surprised if this place was built centuries ago. You know, when torturing serfs was still a thing.”

“Yeah, Norman seemed like the kind of guy who would think that was a fun stress-reliever.” Perrin looked sad. “I never really saw Harry as the type, though…”

“You need to forget about her and move on with your life.” Mary chided. “She was coming apart, we could all see it. It’s... 

“It’s unfair that Gwen got caught up in our drama, though. I don’t understand why Harry would do this to her, too.”

“To get back at you, obviously. She was convinced Mary Jane still had feelings for you, but she knew you had feelings for me. Easiest way to make you feel what she thought you had done to her was to do the same to me.” Gwen shrugged. “I don’t think I got the worst end of it, though. I miss having legs, but this is better than being half-rosebush or whatever is going on with Perrin.”

“My cells got infected with spider-particles. We’ve been over this.”

“Whatever. The point is, you can’t let this curse turn you into a monster.”

“She means on the inside.” Mary interjected before Perrin could make another biting retort. “The Perri I knew would never toss a scared girl into cold dark dungeons to fend for herself.”

“What has she got to fend against? Even rats are too scared of me to set foot here.”

“Considering the experiments you subjected their kin to, I’m not surprised.” Mary observed drily.

“It’s for alchemy!” Perrin and Gwen scowled at her in unison.

Mary held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. But at least take her something to eat. The poor dear must be starving.” She looked pointedly at a very guilty-looking Perrin. “Just because you sometimes forget to eat while in pursuit of a new idea doesn’t mean you can force her to fast, too. She’s your responsibility now.”

“You just had to use that word.” Perrin grumbled. But she put down her pipettes and tidied up the bench before sweeping out of the room.


	2. Distant Places and Impossible Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a dinner date.

Joanie sat in the dungeon, watching miserably as the lantern wick sputtered out, plunging her into darkness. She shivered a little, pulling her cloak closer and wrapping her hands in the thick fabric. Not that it helped much. It had started raining when the cart had gotten close to the manor and the fabric had gotten too wet to do much heat conservation. Closing her eyes, reached into the depths of her core and tried to find even a speck of heat. Her hopes were snuffed out as quickly as the small spark that fizzled in her palm.

Hopefully, the Spider-Beast would make a reappearance before she froze to death.

A loud grumbling echoed through the dank dungeons and Joanie winced, clutching her stomach. Or before she died of hunger. That would explain why she hadn’t been able to produce a decent flame.

Morbid thoughts plagued her as she stared into the abysmal dark and tried to resign herself to her impending doom. In hindsight, punching the creature probably wasn’t the best way to get on its good side, but in her defense, it had looked kind of terrifying. And when it had moved towards her, she’d acted on reflex.

There was a small smirk on her face when she remembered the crunching noise her fist had made after connecting with its face. At least she had managed to show it she wasn’t someone to be trifled with. Not that that had done her much good. But still.

She leaned back against the wall and decided to take a nap. At least that would help her conserve energy. But she had barely shut her eyes when she heard the door open, and a stream of weak light came down the stairs. Silhouetted at the top of the steps was a cloaked figure.

Joanie’s breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself not to shrink away. She watched as it descended, a new lantern and a steaming cup in it’s hands.

“Are you awake?” A soft, feminine voice whispered. “I brought you something to drink.”

“As long as it isn’t poison.” Joanie muttered, watching the figure crouch down on the stone floor before reaching through the bars and placing the cup down. In the lantern-light, she could make out a pair of dark eyes nestled under a slightly mussed mop of brown curls. Which weren’t nearly as long or curly as her own, Joanie noted with a little, probably misplaced, pride. She searched in creature’s firelit features for some semblance of humanity, wondering whether it was much older than she was. It was hard not to stare at its mouth, though. Those fangs looked lethal, their sharp tips glinting in the amber glow of the lantern.

At any rate, those fangs were less unsettling than staring at the multiple pairs of smaller eyes that ran along the sides of its head, all eight of its dark pupils focused on Joanie.

They sat like that, eyeing each other uncertainly. By the time one of them mustered the courage to speak, the steam from the cup was beginning to thin out, and Joanie was still pressed against the damp wall, as far away from the creature as possible.

It was the Spider who broke the uneasy silence. “You might want to drink that before it goes cold.”

“What is it?”

“A bit of tea. With sugar and milk. No poison.” When she grinned, it revealed two rows of small, sharp teeth that looked like they could slice through steel. “I wasn’t sure how long it had been since you last ate, and it’s better to start with a liquid, anyway.”

“Oh.” That level of consideration was surprising. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The voice coming out of that scary-looking mouth didn’t sound mystical or terrifying. In fact, it sounded kind of nice. A bit nervous, if anything. “I have been informed that you likely tried to attack me out of fear, and that I am hardly doing anything to refute your suspicions by keeping you down here.” She took a deep breathe. “If I am being honest, I thought…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Well, I didn’t think, and now you’re stuck here. I would send you back home, but it’s getting late and these woods aren’t really safe to navigate at night. Also, it’s raining. So unless you want to brave werewolves and bad weather, you can stay in one of the spare bedrooms tonight, and we’ll see what to do in the morning.” She paused. “How did you get here, anyway? You couldn’t have walked.”

“Reed drove me here, dropped me like a hot potato and hightailed it back home as soon as I set foot inside the gate. He’s normally really protective,” She smiled weakly. “Some might say too protective, but you really scared him.”

“That was kind of the point. He was about to sic that blade on someone I care about.” The Spider-Beast laughed drily again. She – Joanie was rapidly beginning to think of it as a she – stood up and reached for the lock. “I’m going to let you out, but only if you promise not to attack me again.”

“No promises.” Jonny managed to muster a little more of her old glow, and she shot Spidey a winning smile, ignoring the part of her mind that was screaming about how anyone anthropomorphized a plant might not exactly be right in the head.

Spidey – as Joanie had begun to think of her – did not look impressed by the gesture. “Either you promise not to pull any stunts on me, or I’ll leave you here to rot for some unspecified amount of time.” She said dourly.

“Not much for jokes, are you?”

“Depends on the joke. Yours aren’t particularly funny,” Spidey shrugged, her mouth curved slightly upwards.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t mad, but she definitely had a bad sense of humor. “I’m offended. But I suppose that’s fair, seeing as how I might have broken your jaw. In fact, I’m pretty sure I broke your jaw. How can you talk? Is it some weird spider-magic?”

“Side-effect of the curse is that I recover from bodily harm faster than most people.”

“You’re cursed?” Joanie regretted it the instant the words came out of her mouth. Of all the obvious things to ask.

“I wasn’t exactly born this stunningly beautiful.” So Spidey had a dry sense of humor. That was interesting.

“Yeah, I hear stabby-looking teeth are all the rage in the fashionable circles right now.” Joanie responded, giving her a grin. She was going to try to be nicer, at least until she has gotten enough strength back to make use of her own abilities.

Spidey gave her an amused smile, holding the cell door open. Joanie gave her a little curtsey on her way out. She waited for Spidey to start up the steps and followed her up into the light, careful to maintain a sizeable distance between them. Sure, the Spider-Beast seemed a lot less scary now, but who knew when that would change?

Joanie shivered a little, remembering Spidey’s grip on her wrist, the strength it must have taken to bodily drag another person like that. No matter how awkward and considerate she seemed, the Spider-Beast was dangerous.

***  
They exited the dungeon and found themselves in a long corridor. Joanie’s head swung around as she tried to take in the layout. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the inside of the manor while Spidey had dragged her through it initially, but now she was able to appreciate the fine stonework and weavings that covered most visible surfaces.

What struck Joanie as odd, though, was how there were no portraits. Old houses usually had a ton of fusty faces on the walls, but this place was oddly devoid of any history. There were a few wall hangings with suspicious bulges under them that suggested they were concealing framed artwork, but the blonde didn’t really think now was the time to be prying.

“What’s that?” She pointed to a set of heavy, ornately carved oak doors instead. “Is that where you practice your nefarious dark arts? Where you distill poisons to kill poor unsuspecting women?” She pretended to swoon and catch herself on a nearby end table. Joanie wasn’t sure how effective the routine was on women, but she knew most guys couldn’t help but have a bit of a soft spot for airy women with (faked) delicate sensibilities. It made them feel more protective and less likely to hurt you. At least, as far as her experience went.

Spidey didn’t look like she fit into that category. She merely watched Joanie sway with an amused half-smile. “Oh, that’s the library. It’s rather lovely. If you’re done with your theatrics, would you like to take a look?”

“How dare you?” Joanie cracked one eye partially open and saw Spidey roll hers. All eight of hers. It was creepy. Joanie closed her eyes again.

“I’ve seen and felt your punches. Something tells me you aren’t as delicate as you’re making out right now.” Joanie could hear the grin in her voice. “That something being how, even after hours of being locked in a dungeon, you can muster this much pretend rage and real humor.”

“Eh. I’m not much of a reader. I’m more of a hands-on person.” Joanie dropped the act and started walking again, trying not to flinch as Spidey waited and fell in step beside her. “I’ve always had a good head for building things. “ Her eyes lit up. “I built my own velocipede!” The pride in her voice was strident. Ben teased her about never missing a chance to bring up the contraption in conversation, and she wasn’t about to prove him wrong now.

Spidey’s eyes widened, looking somewhat impressed. “That couldn’t have been easy. I’ve always been fascinated by those things, even if the thought of riding one terrified me.” She paused in her stride and Joanie nearly ran into her.

She leapt back, prompting Spidey to raise an eyebrow. “I don’t bite, you know.” She grinned, purposely showing off her teeth and fangs to their full, jagged effect. “These are just a side-effect.”

Joanie swallowed, but stood her ground. This close, they looked to be about the same age. 

So Joanie did what she usually did in uncomfortable situations with people her own age. She pulled out all the stops.

“Well, if you figure out this curse thing, I’d be happy to give you a ride.” Joanie grinned at Spidey, internally berating herself for flirting with a spider-beast, of all things. Sure, she was a bit of flirt and hadn’t really had a paramour in a while since things fell through with Cryssa back home, but even she had standards.

Standards that a were apparently met by a five-seven spider-beast-woman with bright brown eyes, a rough laugh and an awkwardly endearing demeanor.

This was ridiculous. 

Thankfully, Spidey did not seem to notice her momentary lapse, instead giving her a confused look before pointing into another large room. “That one is the lab. I’ve been working on finding a way to break the curse, but it’s been slow going.” There was a teasing lilt to her voice as she added. “It’s less ominous evil and more alchemical calculations.”

“That sounds boring. Isn’t the easiest way to break the curse usually mentioned when it gets cast? Like kiss of true love, eyes of newt, sacrifice your first newborn, et cetera? Why don’t you just try that?”

Spidey turned away suddenly, looking uncomfortable. “There…that…uhhh. I can’t really talk about it. But safe to say, it’s never really been an option.” She gave that same mirthless, slightly bitter laugh she had in the dungeon. “Let’s just say alchemy is more likely to fix it.”

“Okay.” Joanie wasn’t too well-versed in curses, but whatever.

“This is where you’ll be sleeping.” Spidey opened a door and pointed up a winding staircase that stretched upwards, the top shrouded in shadows. “There’s a room at the top of the tower with clean sheets and a wardrobe with clothes you should be able to use.”

“I’m going be a regular Rapunzel, aren’t I?” Joanie asked, drily.

“Well, you won’t have to worry about your hair. I don’t even need the staircase, to be honest.” 

“What, you can crawl on walls?” Joanie asked humorously.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She had been joking. She hadn’t thought of a clever retort to that. “Any other strange side-effects I should be made aware of?”

“I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?” Spidey winked at Joanie and something fluttered in her chest. She mentally visualized wearing steel-toed boots and stamping down on that feeling until it turned to dust and dissipated in the wind. What was wrong with her?

“Something the matter?” Spidey looked worried. “Do you feel faint? Do you need something to eat? I thought the tea would be enough, since we’re having dinner soon. Oh, wait. Didn’t I mention that earlier? I should have probably mentioned that earlier.”

“I don’t like the dark, much.” Joanie mumbled, grasping for the first excuse that came into her had and trying to put the Spider out of her rambling misery.

“Oh. Oh!” Spidey blinked a little, then gave her a surprisingly sympathetic look. It wasn’t pity, Joanie hated pity. It was more like recognition. A sort of understanding acknowledgement.

It was nice. Even if Joanie wasn’t even really afraid of the dark.

“What, no smart taunts?” Joanie piped up, because she didn’t know how to let good things lie.

“Everyone has things they are afraid of.” Spidey shrugged. “If this is what scares you, I don’t mind taking you to the top. Let me just get a candle to light our way.”

Spidey was surprisingly considerate for a beast. She was also surprisingly sincere, in a dry somewhat awkward way. As they made their way up the winding stairs, Joanie thought back on the past few minutes. Despite her rather horrifyingly distorted features, she hadn’t once felt unsafe or threatened by Spidey. Sure, whenever the beast smiled, Joanie was convinced it was the prelude to her getting her head bitten off, but Spidey hadn’t once given any indication that she would actually bite Joanie’s head off, given the opportunity.

And she’d had plenty of opportunities.

There were books stacked in two neat piles by the bed, with one open on top of the pillows.

“Sorry about the mess. I come up here sometimes for a break. That’s how I knew the room was available.”

Joanie took a closer look at the open book. It was full of beautiful sketches, each one labeled with what looked like the name of a different place around the world. She picked it up and flipped through the pages, pausing at one that stirred up old memories.

There was a ribbon in the page showing the Statue of Liberty, standing tall in a harbor inked with such detail that it looked like the waves were gently rippling on the page.

“I’ve been there.” Spidey had come to stand behind her, watching her flip through the book. There was a wistful smile on her face. “In fact, I used to live there.”

Surprise was evident in Joanie’s expression. “I did too, when I was younger. But Vi…Reed was invited to work at the university nearby, so we all moved.” She didn’t have to specify which university. They both knew. It was the kind of place that could make or break careers. “So we packed up and shipped out.”

“That can’t have been easy.”

“No, I didn’t mind much. Our parents passed away when we were still really young and there wasn’t much tying me and my sister down over there. In fact, I think we were excited at the prospect of finally catching a break. Making a new life here, one where she could help Reed with his science and with open roads for me to ride and drive without issue.”

“Still, it can be hard to leave behind everything you’ve known. Even if that everything was not a lot. Loss is a strange thing.” There was something aching in Spidey’s voice that made Joanie look up, only to find herself staring into deep, dark eyes swirling with some unidentifiably heartbreaking emotion.

They were close enough that Joanie could reach out a hand and touch Spidey. To offer some small comfort, and maybe get a little in turn. She did so, fingers moving to rest gently against white cotton, careful not to touch skin. But she could feel that barbed texture even through the material. It was less prominent here, but still present. Joanie felt that fluttering feeling in her chest quicken, somehow resisting all further attempts at quelling it.

She also didn’t miss the way Spidey’s breathe hitched as she looked at Joanie’s hand, before reaching up to cover it with her own. She opened her mouth as if to say something, and Joanie thought her fangs didn’t look quite as scary as they had in the dungeon.

A sudden tapping on the window sent them leaping apart, blushing wildly, They turned to look at the source of the noise and Joanie screamed.

Someone was hovering outside the window, gently tapping on the glass.

Joanie shrieked again, stumbled back and fell against Spidey, who reached up to steady her. Strong arms wrapped around Joanie’s shoulders reassuringly. “Don’t worry. This is Mary Jane.” The lady pushed open the window and came in, trailing vines and leave behind her. “She’s going to help you freshen up a bit.” Spidey explained.

“Hello, pretty lady.” Joanie gave her a weak attempt at a rakish smile, worrying that her undignified screaming might have given the plant lady the wrong idea. 

Mary Jane raised an eyebrow. “Cute. The scream really sold me. And the fact that you’re currently in the arms of another woman.” Joanie’s grin dimmed a little, and she felt Spidey stiffen against her back. “If I wasn’t taken, I might have gone for it.”

“Are you and Spidey…” Joanie’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, nooooo.” Spidey and Mary Jane laughed in unison, and a few petals drifted from the redhead’s hair onto the floor. “No, I’m afraid you’ve got it wrong.” Spidey was grinning when she stepped away from Joanie and began moving towards the door.

“So who’s the lucky lady?” Joanie asked, unwilling to admit to herself that she missed the contact. She was a naturally touchy sort, and for someone who was part-arachnid, Spidey’s skin had given off a comforting warmth.

“You’ll meet Gwen soon enough. But for now, I’m supposed to help you get dressed.”

“I’ll see you two soon, okay? I’ll be in the lab if you need anything. Oh, and I’ll leave the candle here. Don’t want you to fall and break your neck on the way back down.” Spidey gave Joanie an awkward, lopsided smile and headed out the door.

“She couldn’t get out of here fast enough. What a charmer, that Spidey.” Joanie huffed.

Mary Jane had failed to hide her snort at Joanie’s last comment. “Nothing. But your Spidey isn’t really the fashionable type. She probably thought you’d have an easier time with me. You have an eye for this sort of thing, don’t you?”

“How can you tell?” Joanie preened, knowing perfectly well how Mary Jane could tell. She didn’t roll out of bed every morning with a perfectly matching hairpiece, overskirt, bodice and slippers on. And you didn’t get curls like this without proper maintenance. Even after riding through the hills and being locked in a dreary dungeon, Joanie was proud to think she looked better than could be expected. Barely a wrinkle in sight.

“I used to dress like that.” The redhead let out a wistful sigh. “Before this curse nonsense, I was the belle of every ball. I can’t even wear most of these dresses now.”

“Why…oh.” Joanie trailed off as Mary Jane gestured wistfully to the thorny vines wrapped around her, and the tattered, very shredded hem of the faded pink dress she wore. “That is a problem.”

“Yes. I have been consigned to cheap muslin for the past few years.” She brightened, a mischievous smile on her face. “But now I get to live vicariously through you!”

“What about your lady love? Doesn’t she dress up?”

“Also cursed. But you look like you’ll be able to do double duty for us.”

“I take it Spidey isn’t a big fan of couture?”

Mary Jane rolled her eyes. “We used to consider ourselves lucky if she remembered to wear shoes, let alone match them to her dress. Living in isolation has worsened her already non-existent fashion sense. Now she just runs around in ill-fitting men’s clothes all day like some kind of starveling street urchin whose never seen a comb. That’s why she keeps her hair so short, because it’s easier to maintain.” Mary Jane evidently had some strong feelings about Spidey’s sartorial choices.

Joanie hadn’t really gotten a clear look at Spidey’s wardrobe beneath the cloak she had been wearing (mostly because she had been distracted by the fact that the woman was wearing a cloak _indoors_ like some kind of heathen), but based on the accuracy with which Mary Jane described that mop of tousled brown hair, Joanie was inclined to believe her about the clothes, too. 

Now that she thought back on it, though, she hadn’t heard the telltale rustle of skirts beneath the fabric. She pondered what kind of figure Spidey would cut in a fitted suit, then blushed a little, all the while wanting to scream. It was the kindness in those creepy eyes, that was it. And the stupid sense of humor. Joanie had a weakness for nice eyes and wisecracks.

Even if the number of those eyes was more than normal, and those wisecracks were punctuated by the soft whistle of air moving through past protruding fangs.

Mary Jane watched with no small amount of interest as these feelings flitted across Joanie’s face. She looked like she was about to say something when they were interrupted by the chime of bells indicating that it was half past six. “Dinner will be soon. We need to get you dressed and also do something about that hair.” Mary Jane pointed a hairbrush at Joanie’s head, before pointing it at the wardrobe. “Open that. Now tell me, what are you favored cuts and styles? And don’t hold back. I used to work at a prestigious dressmaker’s to make ends meet.” She smiled wryly. “Apparently, pretty models help move product.”

Joanie grinned at the challenge in Mary Jane’s eyes. “Aqua. To match my eyes. Turquoise if you don’t have that. I like sweetheart and v-necklines, and if the sleeves are long, they need to be fitted. Cuffed sleeves are okay too. Just nothing that can potentially drag or get caught in machinery.” _Or set fire to anything else_ She thought to herself. “No overlays on the skirts, and I refuse to wear more than one petticoat.”

“That’s a tall order. But I think I can match it.” She opened the wardrobe and pointed at a blue dress. “Try that one.” Joanie pulled it out, surprised to find that it met the specifications she had set to a tee. She quickly ditched her rained-on clothes for the new dress, sighing as the soft, warm fabric fell against her skin. New clothes did wonders for a bad mood.

“Now, time for your hair…” Mary Jane had barely gotten the offer out of her mouth before Joanie was already seated at the vanity table. “Someone’s excited.”

“I’ve never had someone to do my hair before. Well, at least, I’ve never had someone trained. My sister was always more interested in alchemy and inventions that fripperies. Not that it mattered. She is the kind of person who can roll out of bed and still look like a perfect portrait.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Besides, I think you’re just as excited about getting me all dolled up. Can’t have me wear this dress without matching hair and all that. And it doesn’t look like Spidey gives you much chances to do anything for her.” She paused, considering something. “Is this a formal dinner?”

Mary Jane muttered something before continuing. “Yeah, your Spidey would probably have just blinked owlishly and proceeded to hand you the nearest blue-looking thing she found.” Mary Jane laughed delightedly when Joanie mimicked the expression she had seen earlier on the stairs, leaves drifting down from her hair to litter the floor. Joanie felt a strange knot in the pit of her stomach when she realized that Reed had almost hacked at the cursed woman she was beginning to consider a friend. “Barely a day here and you’ve already got it down pat. I like you.”

They had just finished when the bells sounded for dinner.

***  
“Calm down” Gwen was trying to convince her to stop pacing. “You look fine.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” Perrin snapped, falling into a chair on one side of the table.

“Well, I can’t really reassure you about the food. Mary Jane and I tried our best, but you are a hopeless cook.” She shook her head inside the mirror. “Really, you have a magically self-replenishing pantry and all you eat is bread and cheese and dried meat. It is disgraceful,”

“What are you complaining about? It’s not like you or Mary Jane can eat it, anyway.”

“But poor Joanie has to, and it’ll be a miracle if she doesn’t decide that braving werewolves and windstorms is better than suffering through a dinner you made” She wagged a finger at Perrin through the glass. “If you scare her away with your cooking, you’ll never break the curse.”

“No. I’ll just wait for the next lovely woman who walks through my door and kicks me in the shin before screaming when she actually sees my face.” Perrin said drily. “And what about our lab work? Every mistake brings us that much closer to a cure that doesn’t require kissing.”

“Come on, Perrin. We both know that could realistically take years to come to fruition. And here you are, with a beautiful girl right here. Here, now.” Gwen looked down. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather get my old body back,”

Perrin was about to reply when the doors to the dining room creaked open, and a blonde head popped around form the other side. “Hello?” Joanie called, before striding in, somehow seeming like she owned the place despite having been here for less than a day. Perrin was big enough to admit the golden-haired woman in the fitted blue gown and perfectly coiffed hair was much more suited to the grandeur or the manor than herself.

Not that she hadn’t made an effort tonight. She’d dug out a nice black jacket and paired it with somewhat matching trousers (despite what Mary Jane said, Perrin personally thought that all blacks were the same). She wore a white shirt without any stains and barely any wrinkles on top, her hair brushed and shoes on her feet. It was a lot more effort than she had made in a long time, but Gwen was right. She only had one chance to make a good first impression.

Joanie could be the key to breaking the curse.

“Like what you see?” Joanie had caught Perrin staring and come to a logical conclusion, even if it wasn’t an accurate one. Well, not a completely accurate one. She looked beautiful, the light of the chandelier catching in her curls and shining in her bright eyes. The blue dress made her look every inch a princess.

“Who wouldn’t? You look lovely.” Gwen snickered softly in the mirror, prompting both of the other women to turn, Perrin with a scowl and Joanie with a surprised expression.

“Ah, yes. Joanie, meet Gwenny.” Perrin smirked. “Or Gwen, as she prefers to be called. In fact, if she wasn’t currently trapped in a mirror, she would probably have hit me over the head for calling her that in company.”

“Hmph. See if I use my mirror-sight to show you anything anymore.

"Gwen can move through space to show us glimpses of the outside world. Small mercies, seeing as how we're stuck here for the forseeable future." 

"Still haven't figured out how to breach the time barrier."

"I'm pretty sure if you did that, the known universe would collapse in on itself." Perrin responded. 

Joanie looked between the two. “Aren’t side effects supposed to be undesirable? Because you all seem to have gotten major upgrades from this curse.” 

“I’d hardly call this an upgrade.” Perrin replied, gesturing to her face. “I mean, the before portrait wasn’t exactly a work of art, but I certainly had a more charming smile.” She flashed her teeth at Joanie in a sharp grin.

Joanie looked stricken for a second, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Relax. I’m just teasing.” She hurried to reassure the blonde, mentally kicking herself for taking the teasing so far. A genius-level intellect and she managed to stick her foot in her mouth at least once in every conversation. Perrin tried to cover up her embarrassment by gesturing at the chair on the opposite end of the table. They were separated by 20 feet of table, a single place setting on either end. “You can sit down and help yourself.”

“Thank you.” Joanie

“And that’s our cue to leave!” Mary Jane had come into the dining room at some point and Perrin hadn’t even noticed. Now the red-head was almost at the door, holding Gwen’s mirror in her hand. “We’ll leave you two to dine.”

“They don’t need to eat.” Perrin explained when Joanie looked curious. “Well, not the way we do. Mary Jane photosynthesizes now and Gwen is basically immortal.”

“Cool. That’s got to keep the food bill down.” Joanie joked.

“Well, we’ve got a magic pantry, so we don’t really have a food bill.”

“Oh.” Joanie wrinkled her nose at the soup in front of her. “You’d think magic food would taste better.”

Damn it. She’d messed up the fancy stuff. She should have just gone with cheese sandwiches. But no, Gwen and Mary Jane had said that was no way to woo a woman.

Well, Perrin was plenty sure that partially-burnt soup and a poorly tossed salad were even worse.

“Oh!” Joanie looked at Perrin’s woeful expression and came to the right conclusion. She took another careful sip of soup. “On second thought, it’s not that bad. Just, maybe more of acquired taste?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. She reached for the glass next to the plate, looking relieved when she realized it held wine. 

Perrin ran a hand through her hair, somewhat at a loss for what to say. That was surprisingly nice of Joanie to try and make her feel better, despite Perrin’s having locked her up and starved her. She looked down into her own dish, groaning internally. They sat quietly, the only silence only interrupted by occasional chewing sounds and the clink of Joanie pouring more wine into her glass.

Perrin wanted to crawl under the table. This was a fine start to a courtship.

“What’s your name?” Joanie asked, breaking the awkward silence as she took another drink.

Of course, the reminder that she had failed to introduce herself made Perrin feel more awkward than anything else. “Oh! It’s Perrin.” She smiled, this time a little more shyly. “Perrin Parker”.

Then she said what she had been trying to figure out how to say since the beginning of the meal. “I want to apologize again for the way I behaved earlier. I just was not expecting a person to pop up on my doorstep like that.”

“But you…”

“Yeah, yeah. I made that deal with your brother,”

“Brother-in-law.”

“…brother-in-law. But to be honest, I was just trying to scare him away from the roses. From Mary Jane. I didn’t actually think he’d send you here.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Would you believe it if I told you I got that line about living creatures from a book of fairytales?”

Joanie stared at her, then began laughing. “No wonder you scared them so bad! Reed was convinced you were some eldritch fey creature who would exact terrible vengeance on them if they didn’t comply with your commands.” She started laughing again, cracking up at the idea that Reed and Ben had been so worked up over a bedtime story.

Perrin blinked. “But almost no one believes those stories anymore!”

“Well, Reed and Ben do. In all honesty, though,” Joanie looked away. “I might not have argued the point too much.” She continued when Perrin just stared. “I have jumped at the chance to get out of the house and have an adventure.”

Perrin blinked at her, that same owlish expression she had mimicked in the mirror for Mary Jane earlier. “An adventure?”

“You don’t understand. My family is kind of famous. Or infamous, depending on who you ask. I’m constantly in the public eye and everyone is always gossiping about me and whether or not I am seeing anyone. It’s like they see me as little more than fodder for the gossip mill. Also, no one takes me seriously. Sure, I’m not some great inventor like Reed, but I’m pretty good with my hands. Not that that matter anymore.” She thought longingly of the velocipede she’d left at home. “I guess I kind of wanted to prove I was able to stick out on my own. And if I could beat some Spider-Beast, then they’d all have to respect me.”

“Well, if you want an adventure, you can feel free to explore this old heap. I’m sure there is a haunted cellar or trap door somewhere for you to fall down.” Perrin said, trying to shove odwn the part of her that wanted desperately to pull the sadly smiling, reminiscing young woman into her arms and hug her.

“Yeah. When I left home I was hoping for something a bit more dramatic. Worldly.”

“A cursed manor not good enough for you?”

“I’ll take it.” Joanie shrugged. “So,” She leaned over, head in her hand. “that picture got me thinking. How does a woman from New York end up stuck in a cursed manor out in these hills anyway?”

“How else? Poor life decisions and a poor understanding of my responsibilities.” Perrin replied. 

“I can drink to that.” Joanie replied with a cheeky grin, making Perrin laugh. 

“I would go into more detail, but the curse prevents me from unburdening my backstory onto you.”

There was a lull in the conversation then, but the silence felt more easy than before.

“Have you ever visited it? The Statue of Liberty, that is. I lived there for years but I never set foot on that island.” Perrin asked as they moved on to dessert.

“Honestly? It’s the same way for me. I’ve seen it from afar, though I’ve never really had the chance to go. We were always either on Long Island or Manhattan, but you know how it is. You don’t really do touristy things that often when it’s home.” Joanie replied, eyes lighting up when she lifted off the dish cover to reveal a small chocolate torte.

“Well, here’s an idea. Once I figure out how to break this curse, and you figure out how to build us a velocipede that can cross land and water, we’ll visit it together.” Perrin might have had a second glass of wine. And a third. Faster metabolism meant that it usually took three drinks to get her to the point where she was suggesting vacation plans to a woman she had only met that morning.

“Or we could just buy tickets on a train or boat.” Joanie raised an eyebrow, who despite the slight flush in her cheeks was evidently not too far gone to find a hole in the plan.

“What’s the fun in that? Besides, it’d probably be cheaper to build a velocipede from the ground up than buy tickets.” Perrin replied. Mary Jane said stubbornness was her worst quality, and Perrin couldn’t disagree.

“You’re not wrong.” Joanie paused, thinking. Then she raised her cup. “To impossible dreams.”

“I’ll take that toast. To achieving the impossible.” Perrin was gratified when Joanie mirrored her smile. 

The rest of the meal flowed smoothly, the two of them recounting each and every crazy aspiration or idea that they had ever had, making the other laugh as the stories grew increasingly wild and exaggerated. They were still laughing when they finished, cleaning their dishes before heading to bed. Perrin felt a small thumping in her heart as she proffered a lit candle to Joanie, watching the way the other woman’s face lit up when she realized Perrin had remembered. 

“Thank you.” Perrin nearly fainted when Joanie gave her a warm smile and gently touched her arm before beginning the climb up.

“You’re very welcome.” She whispered before turning away. She felt things she hadn’t felt in years. But she didn’t, couldn’t let herself get caught up in it. Trying to shake off the giddy feeling filling her lungs, she headed to the lab. Just because there was new glimmer of hope, didn’t mean she was going to ignore all the work she’d been putting into it.

It wasn’t right or fair to pin all her hopes on Joanie. Even if Perrin wanted so badly to believe things would turn out for the better, who could ever learn to love a beast like her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this story happening in England? In the United States? Who gives a flying fig. I just want to write sapphic fantasy.  
> Also, I've gotten way too into this. Looks like the date of finishing will be moved to August 16th...


	3. An Informal Photography Session

Joanie woke up the next morning and groaned when she saw the rain beating against her window. The storm was still going strong outside. She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, before looking down and realizing she was in the same clothes as last night. She looked over at the wardrobe Mary Jane had showed her and decided to get changed. 

When she made her way down in the hopes of finding breakfast, she was instead greeted by raised voices coming from deeper in the manor. She walked through the halls, trying to resist pulling down the cloth covers, or at least lifting one just enough to peek underneath.

Joanie did not like secrets much. She hated not knowing things, though you’d think she’d be more used to it after living with Reed for so long. He was prone to go one long tangents about things no one but Sue understood. Ben and Joanie didn’t see eye to eye on much, but neither of them were big fans of dinner being derailed because Reed had a new theory and refused to come out of his workroom.

Her heart caught for a second, seized with a sudden feeling of homesickness. She wondered if she had made the right decision, coming here on a whim. 

No use dwelling on what ifs. Joanie was a doer, not a thinker, and she was here now. And if she had a shot at getting the infamous Spider-Beast into bed, well, she’d be a fool not to go for it. she smirked to herself. Lots of people killed beasts. How many had managed to get with one and not die?

Joanie finally found the source of the voices, a few doors down from the kitchens.

“This is why you are supposed to wash your clothes every week!” That was Mary Jane.

“I do, usually.” Perrin sounded upset. “I’ve just been a bit busy lately.”

“Like that’s new.”

“And I didn’t realize all my shirts were unfit to wear. I don’t even know what this one is stained in. Is it blood or tomato paste?”

“Don’t even joke…don’t sniff it!” Mary Jane’s voice carried from the laundry room. “Didn’t your increasingly empty closet clue you in?”

“No.” Perrin responded sheepishly.

“I don’t know what else to do. Unless you want to, I don’t know, finally wear one of those umpteen dresses upstairs?”

“But the dresses have so much loose fabric. Which drags and risks getting caught and getting lit on fire and…” Perrin responded, throwing her arms up in the air.

“And you say I’m a drama queen.” Mary Jane rolled her eyes.

“That was a humorous reference to your theatrical aspirations.” Perrin scowled at the pile of laundry, glaring at it as if that would make it clean itself. “I don’t see anything humorous about the fact that it’s been raining for two days straight and there is no way my clothes will dry if I wash them now.”

The petulant display made Joanie choke back a laugh. In that moment, Perrin didn’t look scary at all. She looked like a teenager who hadn’t gotten her way. Joanie was all too familiar with that feeling. “Um, I might be able to help with that.” She volunteered, stepping into the room.

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her in surprise.

“Good morning.” Perrin said, schooling her scowl into a smile. “If you’re going to suggest drying them over a fire, I wouldn’t suggest that. Even though our pantry restocks itself, our firewood supplies don’t.” She muttered something about noblewomen being out of touch with basic housekeeping and its effect on curse parameters.

“You don’t need firewood.” Joanie kept her voice steady. “Before I explain, can you please promise you won’t think I’m some kind of freak?”

Perrin snorted. “You think the plant lady, the mirror spirit and the spider-beast are in any position to call a pretty girl like you of being a freak? Hell, you probably make even uncursed women feel like freaks in comparison. Ouch.” Mary Jane had not-so-subtly poked her in the leg with a thorny vine.

Joanie stared, struggling to determine whether Spidey was messing with her, flirting with her, or just being cluelessly kind. She settled on the last one. “Here goes, then.” She set the tips of her fingers ablaze.

Three open-mouthed stares homed in on her.

“How can you do that?” Gwen asked, fascinated, the wheels already beginning to turn in her head.

“Residual effects of a curse of my own.” Joanie grinned. “You’re not the only ones with a mysterious backstory, webby.”

“Nifty trick, hot stuff. Is it in poor taste to say I’m glad you’re stuck here with us? Ouch!” Perrin nearly fell into the pile of laundry when Mary Jane poked her again.

“You can’t take someone captive and then make them do you laundry!” The redhead hissed. She turned to Joanie. “I’m sorry about Perrin. She has the social graces of a rabid raccoon.”

“I can be very gracious.” Perrin muttered. She cleared her throat and stood up, giving Joanie a crooked smile that cut to the quick of her heart. “I apologize for my earlier churlishness. I’m a bit out of sorts.” The grin widened, and there was definitely something wrong with Joanie because her heart started beating a lot faster. She’d always been a bit of a sucker for sweet words. “If I do the actually washing, would you please, please dry them with your magic fingers?” This time she deftly sidestepped Mary Jane’s vine before it got her foot, managing to work in a little bow towards where Joanie stood.

Joanie blushed.

“That was a bit, um, intense. Dial it down a little, Perrin.” Gwen snickered.

“Yeah, if the fangs didn’t scare her away, that little display definitely will.” Mary Jane commented drily.

“There’s no winning with you two!” The cocky façade cracked and Perrin scowled at the other women. 

“I really don’t mind helping Spidey.” Joanie said, trying to diffuse the situation. Since when had she ever played peacemaker? “I’ve got last night’s clothes to clean, too. And my traveling cloak.” Which was probably ruined from the rain, but Joanie wanted to try and salvage as much as possible.

“Thank you.” Perrin exhaled and ran a hand through her hair. She gave Joanie a grateful smile.

Joanie blushed more.

“Oh, do you want us to leave you alone now?” Mary Jane raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, _Spidey_.” Gwen grinned.

“As a matter of fact, that sounds perfect. You two, get out. I do not need this kind of sarcasm right now.” She all but pushed Mary Jane out, Gwen’s mirror in her green hands. Perrin shut the door behind them and turned back to face Joanie. “Sorry about that. Is it hypocritical to call them idiots?” She walked back over. “But really, thank you for this.”

“No problem.” Joanie smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “Not like I have anywhere else to be.”

“Ha.” Perrin returned the smile, her expression softening as they moved to start the washing. “I meant what I said before, too.”

“Hm?” Joanie asked, trying to keep her tone light as eight brown eyes turned to look at her.

“I’m glad you are here.” Perring said softly. “It’s nice to have someone new around. Especially someone so…like you.”

As far as compliments went, it wasn’t the best. But it was sweet and sincere and if Perrin didn’t stop soon, Joanie was going to grab those brown curls and kiss her until all eight of those big brown eyes crossed. Fangs be damned.

***

Life soon settled into a new normal in the old Osborn manor. Perrin and Gwen continued their experiments, though Mary Jane now had Joanie to keep her company while the other two were in the lab. Joanie had also found a niche of her own, helping to repair any damaged or clunky machinery. It had started after she had seen a broken mechanical presser in the corner and began tinkering with it. Within a few hours, she had it working perfectly. Perrin had been very impressed, and asked her to look at all their other devices. Within the next few days, the rotors had been undented, an automated teller device had stopped making depressing wheezing noises as it counted time, and various other appliances were working better than they had been before. And if Joanie had taken a bit longer on the repairs than really necessary in order to see if she could get more information on the curse and Perrin’s feelings, well, no one had to know.

Perrin’s feelings (and her own) were made abundantly clear soon enough, though. It all began when Joanie found an old camera hidden in a cabinet. She had found it in pieces, tucked away inside a slightly battered-looking hatbox next to a small album.

Feeling like this was a terrible invasion of privacy, but also unable to overcome her curiousty, Joanie opened the little brown book. It was full of sepia-toned pictures of women. Four women in particular. She recognized the slightly aloof, mischievously grinning blonde as Gwen, and the smirking, dazzling redhead as Mary Jane sans the flora.

She didn’t recognize the other two. One of them only appeared in a few photos, usually with Gwen and Mary Jane, occasionally with the other. She had perpetually uncovered messy brown hair that framed a crooked grin. There was something almost familiar about the brash nonchalance in the way she carried herself.

The other had dark hair. Joanie realized with a growing sense of unease that she couldn’t make out the features or expressions of the dark haired woman in any of the photographs. Her face was always blurred out or turned away from the camera. It was unsettling.

“You should ask Perrin about that.” Gwen had suggested, popping into the giant wall mirror and nearly scaring the ever-loving life out of Joanie. In the process of trying to reverse the curse, Perrin and she had managed to lessen its restraints, allowing Gwen mobility through the various reflective surfaces in the manor.

After recovering from the scare (and thanking the high heavens that she hadn’t accidentally lit the carpet on fire), Joanie did exactly that. She had been surprised to find that Perrin was the owner. And that the camera had been a gift from one Harry Osborn.

This mysterious Harry was starting to pique Joanie’s interest. Everyone looked really sad when her name was brought up, and Joanie had the uncomfortable feelings of picking at someone else’s scars. So she kept quiet and resolved to solve the mystery of the missing Harry Osborn for herself.

Which is why she had begun poking around the manor in the first place. A little thrill went through her at Perrin’s words. Another clue. Whoever Harry was or had been, she had been forward-thinking enough to feel that photography was a suitable hobby for Perrin. She also must have known Perrin closely enough to know how interested the woman had been in the activity.

A small curl of jealousy manifested in Joanie’s stomach at the thought. Despite their rather awkward flirtations (for a genius, the spider-beast was unbelievably dense in matters of the heart), Joanie realized exactly how little she knew about Perrin. Or at least about the woman Perrin used to be. Or still was. Or maybe she wasn’t, not entirely, since being cursed was likely to affect anyone’s disposition.

The whole matter was very confusing and Joanie huffed in frustration as she lay on a couch, waiting for Perrin to finish setting up the apparatus. She had offered to assist, but Perrin had blanched and refused. Joanie was pretty sure she heard the other woman refer to the photography paraphernalia using expressions of endearment typically reserved for one’s own children.

It was rather adorable, if she was being honest.

“Stop sighing. This is a delicate operation.” Perrin commented from where she was crouched on the floor, trying to reconfigure the boxy little device.

Joanie rolled over onto her stomach. “It would go a lot faster if you let me help you. Please let me help you.”

“I appreciate the offer, hot stuff. but I think I’ve got it handled.” Perrin turned to her with a warm smile. “But if I ever have an engine that needs tuning, you’re the first person I’ll call.” She let out a low whistle. “After the work you did on our electrical generator, it’s been running better than ever. I think it’s efficiency has improved by ten percent.”

“Fourteen-point-five percent.” Joanie corrected her.

“Seriously, if I had a clockwork heart, you’d be the only person I’d trust with it.”

Joanie groaned again and flopped face-down on the couch, but not for the reasons Perrin likely thought. Did the woman even know what she was doing? Was she a terrible flirt or just trying to be friendly? In the few weeks since Joanie had arrived here, Perrin had been sending out serious mixed signals. One moment, she was brutally sarcastic, spitting one-liners that Joanie was only too happy to parley back. Mary Jane and Gwen were pretty good at snarking, but Perrin (when she wasn’t hungry or tired, anyway). had a quick, cutting wit that was unrivaled. 

(Except occasionally by Joanie. She hated how her chest would feel weird whenever she shot back a particularly good retort and Perrin’s eyes would get that surprised look that deepened into a sort of sparkling appreciation).

But in other moments, Spidey would offhandedly say heartfelt compliments that made Joanie feel so seen and appreciated. For all the teasing about her beauty routine or the offhanded comments on her appearance, there were just as many references to her technical talents and intellect. No one else had ever called Joanie “smart”. Not when she was with Sue or Reed. Everyone usually dismissed her as a ditzy hellion with odd hobbies. If Perrin had done the same, it would have been so easy to vilify her.

But no. Spidey just had to go and say such nice things, and with such a straight face, too. Like she didn’t even know the way she made Joanie feel, how her compliments and flattering comments tied her insides into knots.

“And, done.” She held the camera up and onto her shoulder. “Do you want to sit for a portrait?”

“Okay.” Joanie had never seen a camera that didn’t require a stand before. She was curious. “Is there anywhere in particular you want me to sit? Any poses?”

Perrin waved her hand in the general direction of the sofa. “This is a new, state-of-the-art box camera. No posing or clothing required.” She realized what she’d said and blushed. “I meant, I don’t need to be under a cloth to modulate the exposure, and we don’t need any formal lighting set-up. Daylight is sufficient.” She lifted the camera up, one hand under it to hold it steady while the other rested against the button. “Sit however you want.”

Joanie kicked her legs up onto the couch, both arms behind her head. Then she sat up, rearranged her skirts so they elegantly fell over the side of the sofa, and lay back down, grinning at the camera. “How’s this? I think this is my best side.”

She couldn’t see Spidey’s face behind the boxy thing, but she could hear the smile in the other woman’s voice as she replied. “Perfect. Though I’m pretty sure you’d photograph well from any angle, Goldilocks.”

Before Joanie could reply, there was a whirring and a clicking sound and Perrin announced that the picture was done. “Do you want to do any other poses? I’ve got enough film in here for more shots.”

“Oh, yes.” The two spent a delightful hour taking candids, Perrin frequently commenting on how good Joanie’s hair looked in the light, and once, in the garden, saying that she wished photos could be colorized because Joanie’s eyes matched the irises outside so perfectly. When Joanie had mentioned that Georges Melies used paint to colorize his moving pictures, Perrin had looked her right in the eyes and said something that would have made a lesser woman swoon.

“No dye could ever do your eyes justice.”

That was it. Joanie decided that all was fair in love and war. If Perrin was going to keep remarking on her looks, Joanie was really going to give her something to look at.

“Tell me Spidey.” She started, unbuttoning the top two buttons on her gown and letting her hair down. It had gotten dark and they were back inside, surrounded by candlelight. Perrin was just about to return the camera to its box, but she looked up when Joanie spoke. “Have you ever done a boudoir shoot?” That was it. No taking that back.

Even if she spontaneously combusted from embarrassment, it was definitely worth it for the look of shock and panic that immediately took hold of Spidey’s face.

***

“Um.” Perrin could feel her face freeze. All eight eyes began to flit rapidly as she tried to collect herself. “Um.” Sure, she’d been flirting with Joanie for the past few weeks, but this was a significant escalation. Though Perrin really didn’t know what else she had expected. But as she tried to keep her eyes from fixating on Joanie’s fingers slowly working their way down her bodice, she knew one thing.

She hadn’t been expecting this.

Joanie kept talking. “I’ve always wondered what I’d look like in a candlelight portrait.” She gave Perrin a wicked smile. “Think about it. Just me and a few well-placed candles. Nothing else.”

Perrin was going to die. She had survived curses and lab accidents, and she was finally going to be done in by a mouthy blonde with no shame.

All things considered, it was a good way to go.

“Yeah, sure. I think I can manage that.” She stammered out, trying to keep her cool. “Wait, don’t do that!” She reached out and grabbed Joanie’s wrist before her bodice was completely unbuttoned. “I mean, don’t do that here?” She was stumbling, flustered. “Anyone could see you!”

“I thought this place was abandoned?”

“Yes, but…it’s the principle of the thing!” Perrin exclaimed. “You need to…”

“You need to stop being such an idiot.” Joanie told her, crossly.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. You’ve been flirting with me non-stop for the past few weeks.” For a second, Joanie looked worried. “Please tell me that was flirting, because otherwise, I have no choice but to decide that you are a terrible conversationalist.”

“I am a terrible conversationalist.” Perrin replied. “But yes, I was flirting with you.” She blushed, eyes unable to leave Joanie’s face. She looked so pretty, with those big blue eyes and all those blonde curls hanging loosely around her face. Her skin looked so soft.

Unthinkingly, Perrin reached up to brush a finger along Joanie’s cheek. “But I never really thought you’d take it seriously.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re so…you.”

“Thanks. That’s really specific.”

“Shut up. I mean, you’re so pretty and cheerful and I’m sure you’ve got a dozen suitors vying for your hand back home.” Perrin felt her heart sink. “Oh, no. Did I tear you away from an engagement? Do you have someone back home who’ll be missing you?” She let go of Joanie and buried her face in her hands, cursing. “I really didn’t realize the ramifications of this…”

“Hey.” Joanie reached down and took Perrin’s hands in her own. “No jilted suitor is going to come screaming with pitchforks, I promise.” Perrin looked up, all eight eyes focused on Joanie’s soft expression. 

“I found the photos. The ones with you and Gwen and Mary Jane.” Joanie said.

“Oh.” Perrin didn’t know what to make of that.

“That was you, wasn’t it? The one who never wore a hat?”

“Yes.” Perrin held her breath, wondering if Joanie would ask about the other woman. About Harry.

“You looked plenty beautiful in those.”

“Oh.” Of all the follow-up statements, that was the one she had expected the least. “Oh.” Perrin was, for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words.

“It’s not just that, though. You’re so nice and considerate, even if you’re kind of annoying sometimes.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You’re the first person who I feel likes me for more than my looks, my charm.” Joanie plowed past Perrin’s attempts at humor, tightening her grip on the spider-beast’s hands as she looked at her with an earnestness that made Perrin’s heart seize in her chest.

“What charm?” She struggled to keep her tone light and teasing. “You’ve been here for weeks and I haven’t seen any charm.”

“How dare you. I’m very charming.” Joanie was smiling despite the mock indignation in her tone, looking at Perrin in a way that sent warmth shooting through her core.

“Yeah, and I’m very gracious. When I want to be. But it’s all an act, isn’t it?” Perrin asked, softly.

“Yeah,” Joanie replied quietly. “My family,..we’ve been through a lot. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone, so I try and stay cheerful all the time. Everyone thinks I’m some kind of airhead, but it’s better than being dead weight.”

“Why would anyone think you’re a burden?” Perrin was genuinely surprised. “You’re clever and handy and intelligent, even if you’re kind of annoying. A lot of times.”

“See, that’s exactly what I mean.” Joanie scowled. “I want to kiss you so much when you say things like that.”

 _Does that mean you want to kiss me now?_ The words were stuck in a knot at the back of Perrin’s throat. But she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

“Me calling you annoying is a turn-on?” was what she finally blurted out.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” Joanie leaned in closer, so close. “You’re hair’s still the same, though. I like your hair.” Joanie continued. “It looks really soft.” Seemingly on impulse, she reached down and ran her hand along the side of Perrin’s head, stroking her hair.

Perrin felt her heart skip a beat. God, she was a terrible person. She wanted to kiss Joanie again. She wanted it so badly, but she couldn’t shake the fact that the blonde might be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. Perrin wouldn’t feel right, knowing that their first kiss wasn’t based on real feelings. What Joanie had said raised small red flags. Perrin had the disquieting feeling that whatever Joanie thought she was feeling was likely the product of isolation and finally getting validation from someone. Even if that someone was a hideous spider-beast.

A small selfish part of her screamed at her to let Joanie kiss her. It wanted to pin her up against a wall and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. It was a desperate yearning. After all, it was the key to breaking the curse, wasn’t it? Have someone fall in love with you and kiss you and then everything would be fixed. Happily-Ever-Effing-After.

But then Perrin looked at that hopeful smile, the way Joanie’s lips were parted just so. Waiting to be kissed. Wanting to be loved. 

And all those dark, desperate thoughts faded away. Curses were rough, but broken hearts were harder to fix. She didn’t know what she would do if Joanie’s heart broke because of her. She couldn’t take advantage of the other woman. She had to be the responsible one.

“We’re both tired and this is a bad idea. I’m sorry, but I…I can’t do this. I can’t do this to you.” The words came out of her in an incoherent rush. Perrin suspected she was not doing a very good job at keeping the longing out of her voice, or her eyes. It didn’t matter, though. She turned on her heel and shot a web towards the corner of the ceiling, scrambling out the window before Joanie could respond.

It wasn’t her finest moment.

_The next morning…_

Perrin whistled as she bustled around the darkroom, preparing the film from yesterday. She took the emulsions out, smiling at the satisfaction of rendering reality onto paper plating. She preferred photographs to painted portraits for many reasons, the biggest one being how alive photographs looked. The way they captured the sparkle in the subject’s eyes, the fine details of their bodily movements and orientations. No stiff distance. Just warm smiles that looked like they come to life at any moment.

Joanie was so full of life.

This had been a bad decision. Here she was trying to forget last night by developing pictures from last night. Not exactly the best distraction.

Perrin paused, looking at the photographs as she put them out to dry. Nearly a dozen different Joanies surrounded her. She reached out, finger pausing just in front of one image. It had been the last one they had taken, just as the sun had set. The firestarter’s abilities had opened up a whole new world of possibilities for photography. Reality was infinitely more amazing, but there was something awe-inspiring about the way Joanie’s body looked surrounded by flame, the photograph recording the way her own light reflected in her eyes. 

Perrin’s cheeks flushed when she remembered staging that image, turning around so Joanie could disrobe before she ignited. She made a mental note to see if she could develop non-flammable fabric. After the almost-debacle last night, Perrin had resolved that Joanie didn’t need any more excuses to take off her clothes.

Speaking of the almost-kiss, breakfast had been horribly uncomfortable. Joanie had taken it upon herself to be painfully perky. As if nothing had happened. As if it was just another one of the countless breakfasts they had shared.

Meanwhile, Perrin’s attempts at humor had been more cringeworthy than usual. She had seen Mary Jane look visibly disgusted at least twice by her shoddy attempts at sarcasm. It had eventually gotten so bad that Gwen and Mary Jane had ditched halfway through, making half-hearted excuses Perrin couldn’t be bothered to remember. Perrin and Joanie had been left alone for all of two seconds before they both remembered they each “had to do something”. Cue a hasty exit that meant no one had eaten a proper meal.

Perrin remembered last night’s conversation, guilt eating away at her insides at the thought that her actions had forced Joanie to fake cheerfulness. But it was better than the alternative. Better than becoming the monster Joanie had first thought her to be.

When the photographs had finished drying, she gathered them up and took a deep breath. If Joanie was going to act like everything was normal, Perrin could at least try to do the same.

“Now, promise me you won’t let these go to your head, hot stuff.” She smirked, coming out of the darkroom and into the hallway where Joanie was waiting. “I mean, you’ve got a big enough ego as it is, but these pictures would turn anyone’s head.” She wanted to kick herself the moment the words came out of her mouth. She had to stop the flirting. _Stupidstupidstupid…_

“Does that mean they’ve turned yours?” Joanie shot back, grinning as she lifted on eyebrow. “Aww, Spidey.” She put a hand over her heart and fluttered her lashes at Perrin. Her tone was mocking, but there was a slight wobble at the end.

Both of them had forgotten how flirtatious their normal had been.

“Just for that, I’m not showing you these.” Perrin responded.

“Noooo.” Joanie reached out to grab them, but Perrin was faster. “No fair. Stop using your spidey-speed.”

Perrin just held them further away, balancing on her toes for maximum extension.

“That does it.” There was a stubborn look in Joanie’s eyes as she grabbed onto Perrin’s hip and reached over her shoulders to try and grab the pictures. “You’re absolutely horrible and I hate you. If you don’t let me see those pictures, I will set your hair on fire.”

“I thought you liked my hair?” Perrin teased back, giving Joanie a sly look.

“Fine. I’ll burn your eyebrows off. See if I don’t.” She glared as Perrin slipped out of her grip.

“Say please.” Perrin grinned, enjoying the closeness, the teasing. Her inner monologue insisted she stop it this instant. She needed to stop. This was stupid. This was immature. She was a terrible, selfish person for delighting in this.

“Please stop being an idiot!” Joanie dove at Perrin again. Unfortunately, her foot got caught in the carpet and she ended up falling onto Perrin. The two of them fell backwards, crashing into one of the covered portraits. The impact knocked the cloth off and it fluttered down to rest on top of them.

“Hello, there.” Joanie whispered, her lips inches from Perrin’s as they sat entangled beneath the heavy tapestry. It was so dark and they were so close and Perrin could feel the heat from Joanie’s body through her clothes.

She felt like she was going to pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been rewatching The Amazing Spider-Man movies and Andrew Garfield’s portrayal might have leaked into my writing a bit here. I love how Peter and Johnny are two sides of the same coin – Peter’s low self-esteem means he can’t believe people would actually date him, and Johnny’s low self-esteem means that he tries to get validation by dating and screwing around. One is kind of up in his own head ruminating woefully all the time and the other one tries to conceal his issues with a perpetual smile and wink. They are both idiots and I love them so much.

**Author's Note:**

> It's ironic because in comics canon, Spidey is the one that breaks into Reed's house For Science and gets off on the wrong foot. I crack myself up.
> 
> There isn't enough wlw content on this platform (or anywhere, really), so I have taken it upon myself to fix that (somewhat). Also, I've come to accept that fluff with a little angst and humor is my forte, so that's what this is going to be chock-full of. One chapter for each of the weekly prompts, some of which will be very loosely interpreted.


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